


A Little Death and Destruction

by flurblewig



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Gen, Horror, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flurblewig/pseuds/flurblewig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Chosen.  Apocalyptic mayhem, courtesy of one pissed-off Hellgod.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Death and Destruction

_Worms._

She hated worms. Fleshy, slimy, crawling little monsters. She'd thought being locked into a physical body had been torture enough; all her magnificent vastness packed into that hot, claustrophobic meat. It was disgusting and gross and so totally unfair, but oh it was nothing compared to being locked into a _dead_ physical body. The meat wasn't hot any more, it was cold and wet and foul. She screamed and raged and wept, but nothing she could do would convince the decaying flesh to let her go. Still it gripped her, trapped her, sucked at her and kept her pinned in its hideous ripe embrace full of worms. Still, she couldn't be free of him. Still, she was bound to him. Still, she was doomed to spend this entire fucking eternity with Ben.

_Ben._ Oh, she hated Ben too, her brother, her keeper, her jailer. In life, yes, with his pathetic human feelings, his pity and sympathy contaminating her, polluting her, making her weak and sick and confused, but she hated him so, so much more in death. In the death _they_ gave him, and wasn't that pretty funny really? The ones he loved more than her, served rather than her; they were the ones who killed him. There was something very profound and poetic in that somewhere, if only the fucking worms would stop slithering long enough for her to think about it. His death was what had brought her so low - his stupid, pathetic, human death.

_Death._ Yes, she hated death; traitorous death that was supposed to be her weapon, her servant and her lover, and instead had turned against her - trapping her here in this stinking hole of old bones when she should have been borne aloft on the worship of every soul in this hellish world. Abandoned and smothered at once, captured and captive and forgotten - she, a hellgod born to rule millions, had instead been left alone to rot by _them._

Them. Above all, above everything, she hated them. She felt them, heard them, saw them, in every minute of this endless fucking limbo; they possessed her, mocked her, obstructed her, filled her mind and her world - a world that was reduced now to these few square feet of earth and death. She knew nothing, was nothing, had nothing other than _them._

Until the day the world caught fire.

The fire ripped through her, blinding heat and light and power, rushing over and through and around everything, around the world, around the bones that held her to the earth. The fire burned everything, and the fire was good.

The fire set her free.

As the remains of Ben's bones exploded into ash, Glory felt the weight of her binding lift. She soared up through the layers of crumbling earth, flying unchained as her tomb collapsed in upon itself. Over. Finally, her imprisonment was _over._

And yet - there was still power in this dying place. She felt its coldness, fighting against the irresistible power of the fire.

She stilled, opened her senses and searched it out. Tasted it.

_What are you?_

And she was answered: _I am evil. I am beyond sin, beyond death. I am the thing the darkness fears._  
.   
Glory laughed. "Well doesn't that just sound super cool," she said.

She opened her arms. "Embrace me," she commanded, and the cold power entered her, and joined its splendour to her own. She laughed again, for the sheer joy of it. "Maybe you _were_ the first," she said, "but now I will be the last."

She could feel them on the ground, their meagre warmth like dying embers. The Slayer, her murdering Watcher, her pitiful friends. With the merest thought, the simplest wish, they would be destroyed. Glorificus could crush them underfoot like the ants they were, and they would never even have time to know despair.

But hey, where would be the fun in that?

 

*

 

Xander looked out over the chasm that used to be Sunnydale, breathing in dust and dirt and silence.

"What do you think we should do, Buffy?" asked Willow.

"Yeah, Buffy," said Dawn. "What are we going to do now?"

"You're all going to die, of course. Isn't that obvious?"

Xander whirled round, feeling Buffy and the others do the same. Behind him, Dawn gave a little strangled gasp. He reached out blindly and put a hand on her arm.

Dawn took a half-step forward. "Mom?" she said.

Joyce gave her a small, sad-looking smile. "Oh, sweetie," she said. "Did you really think it was _over?"_

"Get back on the bus," said Buffy. "Everybody. Now. Faith, Willow - get Dawn out of here."

They all began to scatter around him, as Xander shook his head. "No. No fucking way are you still here. We _beat_ you."

And Joyce became Spike, looking Xander up and down with an amused look on his face. "That right, Harris? I look particularly beaten to you?"

He felt Buffy tense beside him. "Don't," she said. "Don't look like him."

"Awww, why pet? Does it upset you? You don't want to be reminded of your big brave boyfriend, is that it?" It shrugged. "Okay. How about I try on the big brave girlfriend, instead?"

Xander looked away from Anya's bloodstained face. "Thanks a lot, Xander," her voice said. "First you leave me at the altar and then you leave me to get killed. That's great. Really good going, even for you."

The heavy press of a hand fell on Xander's shoulder. "Don't listen to it," said Giles. "Don't look at it, don't let it get to you."

"I'm trying," he said through gritted teeth. "But fuck, Giles, it's still going on. It's still here. What the hell did we just go through all that for? What did people die for? What did we _achieve?"_

"We killed Caleb," said Buffy. "We killed its army. Okay, it might still be lingering about, but there's nothing it can do. It can't hurt us, Xander. Remember that."

Anya's form shifted and blurred, becoming Jenny Calendar. Xander heard Giles's breath whistle briefly in his throat.

"You always thought that, didn't you Buffy? That the people around you couldn't get hurt. That they would be all right because they had you to save them. But you know what?" It leaned in, and looked around conspiratorially. "I'll let you in on a secret, in case you hadn't figured it out already. Being around you _gets_ people killed."

"Get away from her," said Giles, straightening up to his full height. "There's no more harm you can do, here."

"Is that what you think? Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Rupert, but things have moved on a little. I can do plenty of harm." It stared at Giles, head on one side. "I see this body doesn't upset you quite as much as it used to, so let me see. How about this one?"

Another ripple, another shimmer, and a thin, smiling man stood before them. "Ripper," he said, throwing his arms wide. "Lovely to see you, old boy."

Giles ran a hand over his eyes. "Ethan," he said. "I didn't know - I didn't know - "

"That I was dead? Why, would you have sent flowers? That's so thoughtful. But it's okay, don't feel bad. You wouldn't have had time. Because you see I wasn't actually dead, not until oh, about five seconds ago? Give or take. And I have to say, I'm not really very impressed. One minute I'm having rather a nice time with a very enthusiastic young solider, and the next my heart is being ripped out of my chest by an angry hellgod, just to prove a point to you. It's not the way I wanted to - well, actually I suppose in the middle of having sex probably _was_ the way I wanted to go, but really not for a good few years yet."

"You're lying."

"Hmm? About the sex? I assure you, Ripper, I never lie about such important matters. Thought you knew that."

Giles swallowed hard. "Drop this charade. Now. You're not frightening anyone."

"You never did have enough of a stomach for the adult-rated content, did you Ripper?"

"This is pointless. If Ethan's dead then - well, then he is. But we know you didn't kill him. You can't kill anyone."

Ethan smiled, and his mouth widened and plumped up and became red and full.

"Well now," said Glory. "That might have been the case, when your spooky old First Evil was all alone and ghosty, but then - " she paused, and ran her hands down the sides of her tight black dress. "Then, it just so happened to come across fabulous little old me. And you know what? It was the best blind date _ever."_

She sighed, and flicked her hair off her shoulders. "You humans. You've forgotten what it's like to have a real god. Listen: I command, you obey. That's how it works. You don't question, you don't disbelieve and you sure as hell don't argue. If I say I can kill you, I can kill you." She smiled. "I guess I can give you some proof, if you really want. To get you back in the swing of things."

She looked around at Buffy, Giles and Xander, and clapped her hands. "Okay, then, let's play. Who wants to die?" She raised her arm, and pointed at them each in turn. "Eeny, meeny miny, mo. How about - " She swung round, so that her finger was level with Giles's chest. "You? Because you did murder my brother, after all. A life for a life, isn't that right? Isn't that fair?"

Buffy took a step backward. "Giles. Maybe we should -"

She stopped, as Giles stumbled and clutched at his chest.

"Buffy," he gasped, "go. Run. Get away, get - "

"Slowing," said Glory. "Your heart is slowing. Can you feel it? Your blood clotting in your veins? Can you feel your death, Watcher?"

Buffy ran forward, and aimed a spinning kick at Glory's stomach. Glory swayed back out of reach, then grabbed Buffy's boot. She twisted it, flipping Buffy away to land on her back some fifteen feet away.

Xander stared. "Fuck," he said.

Glory whipped her head round, looking him up and down. "Thanks for the offer, " she said. "But honestly? You're not exactly my taste. The witch, now - " she smiled. "That's something else. But the fucking's for later, anyway. Right now I'm in the mood for a little death and destruction. I've got a lot of time to make up for, you know."

Xander looked at Giles, who was lying motionless on the ground. Glory watched him, then rippled again and it was Giles standing in her place. "Want to be next?" Giles's voice asked.

"Fuck," said Xander again. "Oh fuck, oh shit, this is bad." He ran to Buffy, who seemed dazed but unhurt, and pulled her to her feet. "We need to get out of here," he said. "Right now."

She tried to yank her arm out of his grip. "Giles - "

"Is gone, Buffy. We have to go. Now."

They ran for the bus, where Xander could see the faces of the girls pressed up against the windows. Willow was hanging out of the open doorway. "What's going on?" she called. "Xander, what - "

He shook his head. "No time, Will. Get the bus moving."

Buffy and Xander jumped on board, and he looked back to see Glory, in her own form, watching them with a smile on her face.

"Run all you want," she called out. "It won't do you any good. Because you know what? This bitch is _back."_

 

*

_Right now I'm in the mood for a little death and destruction._

The words chased each other round and round in Xander's head until he thought he was going to scream. In the six hours it took them to drive the normal two-hour journey to LA on a freeway getting increasingly jammed, the radio had pretty much given up on anything other than news reports. Tokyo devastated by repeated earthquakes, Pacific island chains swamped by tidal waves, cities and towns all over America ripped apart by tornadoes. _The Earth is shaking us off like fleas_, said the increasingly-hysterical announcer.

Buffy hadn't said a word since they'd got back on the bus. Xander had explained - explained? No, he didn't have an explanation for any of this. He'd described what had happened to Giles, and a heavy, painful kind of silence had fallen. Only Willow had cried, softly and to herself, shrugging Kennedy's hand off her shoulder. _Shellshock,_ Xander thought, looking at the blank faces staring back at him. They'd all seen so much, given so much - how much more did they have left?

He drove on autopilot, following Faith's directions as best he could through streets that were filling equally with cars and panic. He vaguely understood they were trying to reach Angel, but the thought brought no reaction. He didn't care where it was they went, as long as it was away. Away from what had once been his home. Away from Giles's body, abandoned on the desert floor. Just - _away._

He soon realised that they weren't going to get anywhere in the bus. Abandoned cars blocked the road, smashed glass from shop windows littered the sidewalks. People fought on street corners, bodies lay trampled underfoot and blood slicked the tarmac. The air was filled with smoke and screams and sirens.

Xander stopped the bus and turned round to face Buffy. "I don't think there's any way we're going to be able to get through here," he said. "This place is - is - "

"Hell," she said, and the empty tone of her voice made him feel sick and cold.

He turned around to face her. "Buffy - "

Finally, she met his eyes and he wished she hadn't; they were as empty of life as her voice. "What?"

He shrugged and turned away, suddenly finding he had nothing to say.

"Will you look at all that," said Glory's voice in Xander's ear. "It doesn't take much to regress these oh-so-superior humans to animals, does it?"

Both Xander and Buffy jerked backwards. In the back of the bus, Rona began to moan softly.

Glory's head swung around. "Shut that annoying brat up," she said.

Vi put a hand on Rona's arm, but muffled sobs still forced their way from her mouth.

"You can't even follow the simplest instructions, can you? It amazes me that you lasted as long as you did, really."

Glory waved her hand, and Rona's head snapped back violently. A bright spray of blood burst from her mouth as she jerked once, and then was still.

"Sorry about the mess," said Glory as Vi began to scream. "But I thought maybe you needed a reminder of the seriousness of your situation, here. I'm just not feeling the respect, you know?"

"Everybody out," cried Buffy, but they were all already moving. When the bus doors jammed shut, Faith kicked them open with a shriek of twisting metal. They spilled out onto the sidewalk, the Slayers forming a protective circle around the others. Buffy stood in front of Dawn, her hands clenched into fists.

Glory jumped down from the shattered doorway and folded her arms. "Oh, hey, is that my key you're trying to hide there? Well, you know, there's not much use for a key when there's no door, is there? So I don't really need her anymore. Think I might just pull her head off, though, for the fun of it."

"Get away from her," said Buffy, her voice low.

"Kneel to me, and maybe I will. All of you, on your knees. Worship me."

Faith stepped forward, standing by Buffy's shoulder. "Fuck that," she said, and aimed a punch at Glory's head. It connected, hard, but Glory didn't move. Faith let out a hissing cry of pain, and then her fist was gripped in Glory's and _twisted,_ and even over the chaos around them they could all hear the sound of bones snapping.

"When are you going to learn?" asked Glory, shaking her head. She turned to the others, pulling Faith with her. "Demonstration," she said. "Since you all seem so determined to be dense."

"Leave her alone," said Vi, rushing forward.

Glory's other arm shot out and caught Vi in the throat. She gave one strangled gasp and dropped like a stone at Glory's feet.

Faith, her broken hand still caught in Glory's grip, tried to kick out but Glory pulled her arm back at the shoulder, forcing her to her knees.

"Better," said Glory, smiling. "Now worship me. Call me Goddess."

"Fuck you," said Faith, through gritted teeth.

Glory shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Your choice." She let go of Faith's hand and grabbed her by the hair, which promptly burst into flames.

Within seconds, Faith's body was blazing. Xander started forward but felt Buffy's hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. The flames spread outward in a widening arc, and the heat beat all of them back. Glory stood untouched in the centre of the circle of fire, her head thrown back and a wide smile on her face. "Isn't this fun?" she called.

They were running now, as the flames seemed to fly towards them. Some people in the street were caught, their bodies popping and exploding like firecrackers. The bus was also alight, sending up great clouds of acrid black smoke to darken the sky. And still, Glory's voice was clear: "It's going to burn, you know. It's all going to burn."

*

_Giles. Rona. Vi. Faith._

The names ran obsessively through Xander's head like an obscene roll call.

One that wouldn't end.

_Robin, injured and caught too easily by Glory's fire, screaming as his body burned._

Wherever they stumbled to, wherever they tried to hide, she was there. Waiting. Laughing.

_Willow, collapsing like a broken doll as Glory's hand connected with her chin, pushing her head back and snapping her neck._

And even when she wasn't, it didn't seem to be much better.

_Kennedy, half her face blown away by a bullet when she tried to intervene in a gang rape taking place on a street corner._

They were attacked repeatedly as they fled through the streets, by would-be rapists and thieves and crazy-eyed people who lashed out at anything and anyone they could reach.

_Andrew, pulled into the middle of what looked like a looting party and left lying in the road, the knife still embedded in his chest._

And when the sun went down, by vamps who treated the whole thing as an extended visit to Disneyland.

_Dawn, screaming as Buffy and Xander both fought to reach her; finally going down with her throat ripped out and terror in her eyes._

She was dead by the time they got to her, her face covered in blood. Had the vamp made her drink, or was the blood all her own? No way to know.

In the end, they burned her body; just one more fire on a deserted street.

*

He tried to call Angel, using the number Faith had given them, but all the phone lines in the city were down. The televisions and radios seemed to have stopped broadcasting, and there were no more sirens.

An old man caught Xander's arm as they passed. "This is Judgement Day," he said, his eyes wide and his face streaked with tears. "And we have been found wanting."

Xander didn't answer him, didn't move - even when the old man raised the shotgun he carried to his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Beside him, Buffy raised a hand and indicated the streets, the bodies. "What are we doing, Xander? Is this what we were trying to save? Was it worth it? Was any of this worth it?"

Xander offered her no answer; he had none to give.

*

The Hyperion, when they finally reached it, was already burning.

Xander grabbed hold of Buffy in a bear-hug, stopping her from trying to get inside. She struggled for a second but then he felt her sag in his arms.

"I can't do this," she said. "I can't do this any more, Xander."

The doors of the hotel opened and Glory strode out, the fire wrapping around her like a cloak.

"So don't," she said.

"What do you want?" Buffy screamed. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I told you that already. Do try and pay attention."

Buffy and Xander both stared at her, mute. Glory rolled her eyes.

"I want worship, dummies! You know what I'm sick of hearing about, all the time I've been here? Jasmine. It's all any of these creatures can talk or think about. Jasmine this, Jasmine that, what happened to Jasmine, Jasmine would never have let this happen, blah de blah de blah. All these lovely minds, all mine for the taking, and all full of some other fucking goddess."

She walked towards them, the flames glittering around her but giving off no heat. "Is that fair? I ask you, after I've gone to all this trouble, is that fair?"

She reached out and ran a glowing hand over Xander's cheek as he tried not to flinch. "That would be your cue to say 'no, Glory.'"

He swallowed. "No, Glory."

She smiled, suddenly radiant. "There! That wasn't painful, wasn't it?"

Her touch on his face became hotter. "No, Glory."

"Splendid. You're not so bad, you know that? I think you'll scrub up into quite a decent minion. Definitely an improvement on the last lot. And you know what?"

She paused, and the hand resting on his skin changed - became smaller, rougher. Familiar.

"It doesn't have to be all bad," said Anya's voice. "We can still have fun. Just do what the nice lady says, and I can give you orgasms forever."

Xander jerked away. "For fuck's sake, stop it. Stop it."

Anya's features flowed and swirled, and became Angel's. "What about you, Buffy?" he said, a warm smile on his face. "No curse to worry about now, you know."

Buffy looked away, as tears began to slowly fight their way from her eyes.

Angel shrugged, and became Glory again. "Oh well. Whatever. Anyway, the point is, I want minions. Followers. I want this world to acknowledge me as its goddess, and you two are going to be the ones to make that happen. My High Priest and Priestess, is that exciting? Although we might have to do something about your name. High Priestess Buffy just doesn't have the right kind of ring to it. How about Delphine, how does that -"

"Fuck you," said Buffy, her voice low. "Kill me if you're going to, I don't care anymore. But I will not worship a piece of shit like you."

Glory folded her arms. "Well, you know, I thought you might just say something like that. So, I need to convince you. Sell the job. That's okay, I can do that."

She put her head on one side and her eyes became unfocussed. "All right then, let's see what we've got. Canada, still plenty of people alive there. New Zealand, Germany. Ireland is practically untouched. Parts of China don't even know anything's happened. How cute." She snapped back to attention, staring at Buffy and Xander. "Lots of people still alive, still fine. Thousands and thousands of people. Hell, maybe even millions, I haven't had time to do a headcount."

She smiled. "Want them to stay that way? It won't be a bad life, Slayer, you know what I can do. I can make them happy. All I ask in return is a little worship. Is that so much to ask?"

She took a step forward. "Kneel to me, Slayer."

Buffy bit her lip, the tears coursing freely down her face now.

"We can play hardball, if that's what turns you on. Let's start with Canada, then. Twenty thousand people left, at least. Maybe more. But not for long, unless you kneel to me."

"Please," said Buffy. "Please."

"Nineteen and a half thousand. Nineteen thousand."

"Stop it. For fuck's sake, stop it."

"You know how to stop it. Got any relatives in Canada? Eighteen and a half thousand. That's fifteen hundred people you've killed in ooh, what, twenty seconds? See what a natural you are at the whole divine destruction business? Minion is totally your calling. Okay, so how many did we have left? Seventeen thousand, wasn't it? Or - you know, maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe it's quality, not quantity, that impresses you. So how about we give Canada a break and just take this cute little boy apart instead, huh?"

Glory reached out and stroked Xander's hair. "He's pretty, all right, but I'm sure I can find others. High Priest is going to be a sought-after position, I'm sure." She shrugged. "Your call, Slayer. You can do what I'm asking you - and I think I've asked pretty nicely, really - or I can spend the next fifty years killing this one by inches. What's it to be? Worship me, or kill the last little friend you've got left?"

Xander closed his eyes as he felt Buffy take his hand in hers. Together, they dropped to their knees.

 

\- End -


End file.
